Why do I have to love you?
by fallthroughtimelikeme
Summary: Séamus is in love with Dean. It's only a matter of time until Dean finds out but until then, Séamus will do everything in his power to make sure his best friend is happy. Anything. Deamus fic. Set in HPOoTP. Angst/Fluff. Warnings for swearing and blasphemy I guess.
1. Prologue

_**A/N. My first chaptered fic, go me. I don't know how often I'll update this and it's not going to be awfully long but I hope you enjoy it anyway! Please review if you have any thoughts. I'm not going to beg but it is amazing to hear feedback :')**_

_**Disclaimer: All rights belong to JK Rowling. I don't own anything.**_

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**Why do I have to love you?**

**Séamus POV.**

Merlin, I was so in love with him.

Dean.

Dean Thomas.

His name flows so perfectly from my lips. He would be proud of me for speaking so eloquently, I know that. He's always trying to teach me new words! Dean admires creativity. Dean is the very personification of creativity and of generosity and kindness. But mainly creativity. Art is his life. He expresses himself in everything he does. He thrives to become a successful artist; as good as he has the potential to be. He needs to practise every type of creative activity he could, he said once. It would all make him a better artist. Dean makes sure he is into everything. He reads. He writes little stories and poetry. He plays a few musical instruments (piano, guitar and violin), always sings to himself and listens to music whenever he's in our dorm. He loves to take photographs too. "Memories are important," he said, "You'll treasure them some day. Plus, they help my creativity". He likes to invent new spells too, although he is much more talented than I am, not that that would be hard. I tend to end up with fire and explosions. I don't think Dean minds though. He always laughs kindly at me and helps me clean up. He's kind like that.

Drawing is Dean's passion though, his utmost love. In all my years of knowing him, and there have been quite a few, I have never seen him without a pad of paper and a pencil. He has hundreds of them filled with little grey sketches of seemingly inconspicuous objects and of people and various scenes. There are many more with enchanting visions of vivid colourful paintings. He told me once that in order to become an excellent artist he needs to experience life to the fullest. He said he wants to experience all the moments, all the emotions in the world. I didn't have the heart to tell him that that is practically impossible. Nothing would break Dean's stride. And that's how it all began.

I told him I'd help him. That's what friends do, right? I didn't realise just how hard that was going to be.

It started off with him drawing my face. Dean could turn a boring, average face like me into a wonder to behold, filled with dense shadows and light and colours and shades and textures. He gave me new dimensions on the page. Then he asked if he could draw my body. I was a little unsure at first but sure it was Dean, my best mate Dean.

I let him.

He made me feel so comfortable and he made me look … almost beautiful? Almost. During the long hours we spent together - me posing, him drawing - I began to observe him. It was hard not to. Dean often fell into long periods of silence while he concentrated, almost like a trance. I started to fall in love with his expression of concentration. His sculpted dark eyebrows furrowed, forming a roof over his dark chocolate eyes. They were almost black but not quite. His eyes intrigued me. Then there were his long, thick black eyelashes, fringing his eyes like feathers. His perky brown nose crinkled slightly and his salmon pink lips pouted subconsciously. Sometimes I could see the faint pink blush on his cheeks when he caught me staring. You'd think I would be the one blushing. One day it all changed. Well, for me, at any rate.

"Uhm… Séamus?" he stuttered. "Yeah?" I replied, "What's up?" "Okay, this might be even weirder than the other stuff," he said nervously, his eyes looking worried. I placed my hand on his shoulder. "Mate, tell me," I smiled.

"Kiss me."

There was a silence. "What?" I asked, not sure if I had heard correctly. "Kiss me?" Dean asked, "for my art! I want to know what it's like to kiss a guy…" "Oh right, ehm…" I frowned. "Never mind, mate," Dean said begrudgingly, "It's fine." "Okay," I said quickly. "Sorry?" Dean asked hopefully. "Okay, I'll kiss you," I answered sheepishly. "Oh you are a star, mate!" Dean was thrilled. I banished my nerves at the sight of his excited face. Anything for Dean.

The smile slid off Dean's face as he composed himself. He stepped steadily towards me. I just stared at him. He had his concentrating face on again. Slowly, Dean lifted his hand to my face. I watched it. He had nice hands. He brushed a lock of my unruly, sandy brown hair away from my eyes and swallowed. I watched his throat work as I tried to regain steady breathing. My eyes were drawn to Dean's mouth by the movement of his tongue. The flash of pink swept over his lips for a quick moment before returning into his mouth, out of sight. Dean caught my eye for a split second before he leant forward slowly. I felt his breath whisper over my face as he got closer.

Before I knew it, his lips were touching mine. They were a bit chapped but that only made it better, in a strange way. It felt natural. I jerked slightly at the touch of his hand on my waist. With a gasp, I raised my hand to his face. His pressure on my mouth got more insistent. I opened my lips slightly and Dean slipped his tongue into my mouth. Under my hand I could feel his strong jaw moving. I responded to his actions, surprised by my own desires. All too soon the kiss ended.

The kiss was perfect. Dean was perfect.

He pulled away smiling gratefully. "Thanks mate, your help means a lot," Dean said before moving to pick up his things. "See you later Shay!" Dean left the room free as a bird. My heart felt heavy. "Why do I have to love you?" I whispered to the empty room.


	2. Chapter 1

_**Hello again! Here is the first offical chapter, I guess. Thank you to the one and only follower of this story! I hope you continue to enjoy this. Uhm yeah so that's it, I should be asleep right now but whatever. Enjoy, review and stuff.**_

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**Chapter 1 - Séamus POV**

The light hit my eyes as I cracked them open. "Ughhh" I groaned, pulling the covers over my head. After a second I threw the covers away and grabbed my watch off the bedside locker. Quarter past eight. "Shite" I said out loud, jumping out of bed and shoving my clothes on hurriedly. The dorm room was empty. Everyone must have already gone down to breakfast. Quickly I ran into the bathroom and splashed water on my face. I took a moment to look at myself. I looked pale and there were bags under my eyes the colour of Dean's hair. Dean again. I sighed. I'd stayed up 'til the early hours of the morning thinking about him, tossing and turning in my bed. He was only a few feet away from me, sleeping soundly. I shook myself out of my memory and ran a hand through my hair trying to make it look acceptable. Sighing, I gave up and left the bathroom to go down to breakfast. Breakfast was a blur. I sat caught up in my own thoughts while I scoffed down my sausages, toast and tea. As soon as I was done, I practically ran out of the Great Hall up the stairs to the Gryffindor common room. "Gobbledegook," I muttered and the Fat Lady swung open to let me through. I picked up my schoolbag from where I had dumped it the night before and rushed out the door to Defence Against the Dark Arts. As I skidded to a stop outside the room, I bumped straight into Dean.

"Hey mate, there you are! I was looking for you," he smiled. "Oh, why?" I asked him, my breath catching a bit. "Oh just… I thought you would come down to breakfast while we were there but you didn't and by the time I went back up to the dorm you were gone," he replied. "Oh right, must have missed you," I said, punching him lightly on the arm. He grinned back at me. God, I loved that smile. Smiling to myself happily, I walked in the door and took my place in the creepy, pinkish themed room. All too soon Umbridge swept in, in her usual fashion and stood snobbishly at the top of the room. "Wands away and turn to page ten, children," she chirped. I rolled my eyes and turned the page. It was going to be a long class. "Have you got something to add to the class, Mr Finnegan?" she asked sharply, her eyes narrowing. "No," I mumbled. "Excuse me?" Umbridge raised her eyebrows threateningly. "No, Professor," I replied with my eyes down. "Detention! Tonight at eight, Mr Finnegan," she trilled. I nodded begrudgingly and kept my head down for the rest of the class.

Twenty to eight came far too quickly for my liking. I stood up from my cosy armchair by the fire and went to dump my chess set on my bed and grab my bag of books. At two minutes to eight, I was stood outside the door of Umbridge's office. Straightening my tie, I knocked firmly on the door. "Come in," a shrill voice sounded. I placed my hand on the door handle and stepped inside. "Do sit down Mr Finnegan," she said smiling viciously. Her smile never reached her eyes. I sat down where she pointed. Looking at the parchment lying in front of me I figured I had to write lines. This isn't so bad, I thought. I wondered why Harry had looked so pale when he came back from his detention a few weeks ago. I reached for my bag. A malicious look lit up her face. "No, no, Mr Finnegan," she said quietly, "With my quill." She handed me a fancy looking gold quill, embellished with violet swirls. "'I must be polite and courteous to my teachers.' Go ahead." I picked up the quill and began to write. As I placed the tip to the paper I realised I had no ink. I looked at her questioningly. "Professor?" I began to ask. She laughed facetiously. "Go ahead," she repeated firmly. "Alright," I muttered. I began again. Red ink started to pour out of the quill as I wrote. I looked on in bewilderment but kept writing. As I finished the first line I felt a sting in my left hand. I glanced at it my eyes opening wide in amazement as the words etched themselves into the skin on the back of my hand. And then, before my eyes, the words faded away. I heard a cough and continued with my lines. With each line I wrote, my hand got more and more sore. By the time Umbridge told me to leave, my hand was in agony. It was burning and stinging and pouring blood like a bitch. I grabbed my bag with my good hand and left, but not before shooting her a dirty look when she wasn't looking.

As soon as I was far enough away from her office, I let out a curse of pain and ran to my dorm, taking no notice of anybody I passed in the Common Room. Closing the door with a bang, I collapsed onto the floor nursing my hand. "Fuck" I cried. "Shay, what's wrong? What's happened?" I looked up in surprise, I had expected everyone to be downstairs finishing homework and whatnot but there was Dean leaping towards me. He knelt in front of me and took my hand. I felt a jolt in my stomach when he touched my skin. "Shay?" he whispered gently, "What happened to your hand?" I looked down at it, 'I must be polite and courteous to my teachers' was scratched into my skin in a pink angry looking scar. "Umbridge… the bitch!" I growled furiously, in reply. "What?! What the hell? Fucking hell Séamus she can't do that to you? You have to report her! The absolute cow, I hate her. She can't do that!" Dean cried, throwing his hands up in the air. I stared at him. His eyebrows were slanted in a frown causing his smooth forehead to be disrupted with wrinkles. His eyes were flashing darker with anger and his cheeks were flushed. I had never heard him curse so much in one sentence. "Dean? Dean! It's fine. I'm okay, it's only a scratch. Calm down mate," I smiled gently, trying to calm him. I couldn't bear to see him upset. "No, it's not okay Shay. It's horrible," he whispered, looking stricken as he pulled me into his arms. My mouth fell open in shock. We'd hugged before but shit, never this tightly. Aw, he was so sweet trying to look after me. I put my arms around him and hugged him back, laying my head on his shoulder. I sighed into his neck, my breath coming out all shaky.

Suddenly Dean pulled back. He looked into my eyes. I froze, not wanting to let myself hope. I watched as his eyes flickered from worry to interest to confusion to determination. I cocked my head to the side silently asking him what was wrong. He smiled and shook his head. "Idiot. Come on, let's run your hand under some water to clean it," he said, guiding me up. I let him lead me to the bathroom and run my hand under water. It stung a lot but I tried not to let Dean know how much it hurt. Afterwards, he led me back into the dorm and made me change and get into bed. "Sleep well," he said with a smile as he closed my curtains.


	3. Chapter 2

_**Part three! Not really as happy with this story as I was in the beginning but I may as well keep posting it! Thank you for the reviews and advice :) **_

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The next morning I woke up to find Dean peering through the dark red curtains around my bed. I raised my eyebrow at him questioningly.

"Morning," he said with an embarrassed smile, "I wanted to check how you were this morning..."

I smiled. He's so cute. "I'm fine Dean. Thank you for last night," I said, trying to convey my gratitude through a look. His smile turned into a delighted grin, his little dimples showing as they did when he smiled his widest. "No problem at all mate," he said before closing the curtains.

My stomach sunk a little when he said 'mate'. I sighed. 'Thank god it's Saturday,' I thought. I rolled over and went back to sleep again. By the time I woke up it was already dark. Bloody winter. I crawled out of bed, my body stiff from long hours of sleep. After a long hot shower, I felt more awake and I made my way down to the Great Hall just in time for dinner. Walking in, I spotted Dean chatting amicably to Neville and Harry at the end of the table. I made my way towards them and slipped in beside my best friend. God, he looked beautiful today.

He glanced up as I joined them and sent his cheerful smile my way. "Hey! There you are, I was wondering when you'd finally rise!" he smirked at me. I smiled back at him fondly. "Here I am," I told him. Dinner was incredible, as always. Almost as good as my ma's cooking. I didn't realise how hungry I was until all the food appeared in front of me and I gobbled down half of it in a few minutes. When I was finally wiping my mouth, I caught Dean staring at me. As I caught his eye, he blushed.

He blushed? What?

I tapped his arm gently. "You alright Dean?" I asked nonchalantly. He nodded jerkily and blushed darker. "Yeah… eh drawing?" he asked gruffly, keeping his eyes averted away from me. I frowned but agreed, thinking I could find out what was wrong once we were alone.

"Sure, come on," I responded, standing up and holding out my hand to him before pulling it back to my side. What was I thinking? Holding hands? Idiot Séamus.

We walked together out of the hall and without saying anything our feet led us to the Gryffindor common room. We headed straight up to our dorm.

As soon as we entered the room Dean grabbed his drawing pad from under his pillows and took his pencils from the drawers. I began to unbutton my shirt automatically.

"No."

I looked up. Dean was looking at me with his hand half outstretched. He uncertainly reached out and began to button up my shirt again. I stared at him. He was so close to me, I could smell his scent; clean, like lemons and flowers but with a musky undertone. I couldn't quite place it. It was so quintessentially Dean.

When he finished with my shirt, he glanced up at me. He looked nervous.

His hands were still at my collar smoothing it down nervously. I simply looked back at him.

All I could think about was how close he was standing to me and how little space I would have to move to kiss him again. Just as I was thinking this, he tilted his head a little to the right. My eyes widened slightly. I saw doubt flicker across his face; the slight dip of his eyebrows and parting of his lips.

He began moving his head towards me, so very slowly. I swear to god my heart nearly stopped in that time. I don't remember breathing, I don't even remember blinking. All I remember is Dean stopping about a centimetre away from my lips. And not being able to look him in the eye because it was making me go cross-eyed.

So I looked at his lips instead.

His beautiful, plump, slightly chapped, dusky pink lips. I missed those lips. Those perfect lips.

And that was when I realised.

He was waiting for me.

I tipped my head and leaned in. Our lips brushed.

This wasn't like our first kiss. It was more hesitant, more significant. I lifted my hand and lightly placed it at the back of Dean's neck. He was taller than me so I stretched my neck a little upwards and rose up on my toes to place more pressure on his lips. He pressed his lips back, sliding his hands around my waist to rest on my lower back.

I smiled into the kiss, accidentally parting my lips. He flicked his tongue out against my lip before slipping it into my mouth. I sucked gently on it for a second before pushing my tongue out. We locked lips a little more firmly and let our tongues dance naturally. Finally, Dean slowed the kiss down, pulling away slightly. He moved his tongue away and took my lower lip in between his own instead, massaging it gently.

My eyes fluttered open a little which surprised me. I couldn't remember closing them. He pecked my lips a few more times. My eyes fell closed again as I met his kisses with my own.

And then his lips were gone.


	4. Chapter 3

_**I haven't updated this in far too long, I apologise. This is the final chapter, I hope you all enjoy. Thank you so much for reading. I would like to give a very special thanks to those who took the time to review! :')**_

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**Chapter 3**

His lips were gone and his presence was gone.

I opened my eyes wishing I were wrong and he was standing right in front of me with that perfect grin on his perfect face. But he wasn't. Dean had just disappeared. If I hadn't heard Hermione tell Harry and Ron about a million times that you couldn't apparate inside of Hogwarts I would have sworn he had just disapparated, he had disappeared so silently and quickly.

I sighed, confused yet again.

I didn't see him again until the next morning. He didn't come to bed until I was asleep. This time I woke up first and as I emerged from the bathroom I saw him sneaking out the door.

"_Dean_!" I hissed, trying not to wake the rest of the guys.

He glanced back at me. He looked scared. I made my way over to him and pushed him gently out the door so I could close it behind us. I looked at him for a few moments, not saying a word.

He just stared back at me. That 'rabbit caught in headlights' expression never left his face.

"Why?" I asked him eventually.

He simply shook his head slightly and swallowed.

A flash of anger ran through me. He couldn't do this to me! It wasn't fair.

I frowned at him and crossed my arms.

Waiting.

He lowered his eyes to the ground.

That just made me more frustrated. My patience was wearing thin.

"Dean? Oi, mate?" I confronted him again, raising my voice.

He flicked his eyes up to me for a second and opened his mouth slightly. I thought he was about to give me some sort of explanation but he backed out and dropped his eyes again.

"You can't do this to me, Dean," I mumbled. My anger was gone now, replaced with sadness and shame.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"It's not good enough Dean. You can't just use me whenever you like and then drop me. I want to help you in any way I can but you're messing with me now. You're messing with my feelings and it's not fair. When you kissed me yesterday…" I faltered.

I glanced at Dean, I hadn't realised I had even looked away.

He was staring at me like I was some strange, unknown creature. Anger flared up in me again.

"No, look. Fuck you, alright? I'm sick of it now, I'm sick of you treating me like shit. It's fine if you don't love me but I love you Dean. Okay? I am in _love_ with you. And I can't deal with it anymore."

I felt coldness wash over me, like some Dementors had just arrived. My stomach seemed to have dropped out of me.

Shit. What did I say that for?

His eyes had widened to about twice their usual size. To be honest, it would have been comical if it hadn't been so awkward.

Suddenly I turned and ran down the stairs. I had to get away. Away from from from Hogwarts.

I kept running; out of Gryffindor Tower, down the staircases, out of the Entrance Hall, through the main door, across the grass until I reached the Black Lake. There, I threw myself down on the ground and leaned up against a tree with my knees to my chest.

Tears flooded down my face, pouring from both of my eyes. I could hardly see through them. My nose was running all over the place, my mouth was wobbling; my breath was shaky and shallow. Feelings of anger, shame, embarrassment, rejection, loss and frustration surged through me. Without noticing I began ripping up the grass from the ground and shredding it to pieces between my fingers. My stomach was a knot of anxiety. Panic raced through my body increasing my heart rate. My head was feeling heavy and headachy; my eyes were beginning to sting.

I let out a huge sigh and drooped my head back, letting my eyes fall shut.

When I woke up it was dark.

Dean was there, crouching down beside me. His eyes flooded with relief when he saw I was awake.

"Oh god Shay, I didn't know what was wrong with you for a second," he cried, throwing his arms around me.

I blinked.

What was happening?

"Dean?" I mumbled questioningly.

He leaned away from me and ran his hands through my hair. He smoothed down my fringe and skimmed his fingertips across my jaw. I stared at him, this was bizarre.

"I couldn't find you," Dean told me sounding hurt, "I didn't know where you went and no one had seen you."

I just looked at him.

"I was worried," he admitted. A blush crept up on his cheeks.

"I'm fine," I assured him, frowning.

He looked at me and went into protective mode again, "Are you sure you're alright? You're frowning. Does your head hurt? Did you hit your head or something? Merlin you're freezing, you could have pneumonia or something! Come on, let's get you inside."

Ugh, why is he rambling?

"Dean? Shut up, would you?" I sighed.

"Sorry," he muttered.

I sighed again heavily.

"What are you even doing here? What do you want? You clearly don't want me so just fuck off and we can forget this ever happened and get back to normal, yeah?" I blurted out tiredly, looking him in the eye.

It pained me to say it. So so much. My heart was aching with the weight of my words. Every fragile piece of my body screamed out at me to shut up. I felt as if I was in danger of breaking at any moment. He was so beautiful and so perfect for me. Even just looking at him made me want him more than anything else, ever.

But it needed to be said.

Dean was the most important person in the world to me and if I couldn't have him as my boyfriend I would have to do with him as my friend. It was best friend or nothing.

Best friend would always be a million times better.

I dropped my eyes from his gaze as I attempted to lift myself off the ground. My muscles were all stiff from the hours of sleep in that awkward position. The frozen, mucky, rocky, uneven ground and the foggy mist didn't help either.

I was certain that that would be it.

I would get up and walk away and go back to the dorm and the next time I saw Dean we would pretend none of this had ever happened.

Of course, I was disappointed and hurting but I was calmly resolute in a strange sort of way. It hadn't really occurred to me that I could be wrong. I had accepted it.

Until I heard him laugh.

I flinched around quickly. I was still half way up off the ground and the movement made me fall back down again, bruising myself.

He was just crouching there looking at me laughing gently to himself.

"What the fuck?" I croaked harshly, my voice still hoarse from the crying and the sleep, "How is this in any way funny?"

He actively made an effort to restrain himself and calm himself down. I could see it in his expression; in the way he bit his lip and frowned a little, little bumps racing across his forehead and took in deep conscious breaths.

When he had calmed down enough, he sat down properly beside me and looked me straight in the eye, smiling.

"You don't understand do you?" he murmured softly.

"No," I replied defiantly, "I definitely fucking don't."

He shook his head a little from side to side still smiling.

"Shay…" he smiled, "I love you too."

Now that was a shock.

I felt my jaw slacken as I stared at him open-mouthed.

"What?" I mumbled.

"I am in love with you, you idiot," he clarified.

I shook my head incredulously.

He couldn't be in love with me.

How could he love me?

How could amazing, brilliant, perfect Dean love _me_?

I continued shaking my head. It had to be a joke. "You're messing?" I asked timidly. His smile faltered a little.

"No Séamus. No, no, no. I'm not joking at all!" he said, opening his eyes widely making himself look so very honest, "I swear to you Shay. I. love. you."

There was a pause where neither of us said anything. He could tell that I didn't really believe him.

"Séamus? Séamus Patrick Martin Finnegan. I am in love with you!" he declared, "I know I didn't really show it at first. It took me a long time to realise it! But I felt something that first time we kissed and it was new and special but I just thought that was it, it was because it was a new experience and it was different and strange. It made me see you in a new light though, mate. I couldn't keep my eyes off you whenever we were together. You never left my mind. And when you were hurt…. Oh god, I worried so much. I couldn't bear the thought of you being hurt! I was confused and messed up. You really wrecked my head… I'm so, so, so sorry for hurting you Shay. I should never have used you in the first place. And I should never have left you without any explanation after the second time we kissed. That's when I knew though. After that second kiss? I knew then that it wasn't just because you were a guy or because it was a one off, a weird experience. I knew then that it was you. I realised that you're all I want and all I have ever wanted. I just didn't know it before. I know how I feel now, I promise."

Dean's face was open and honest and his voice was fast paced and he tripped over his words so many times I just had to believe him.

He pressed on.

"See, you're like the wind Shay. You keep me alert and lively, you awaken my day, every day. You always pick me up when I'm down. You randomly sweep into my life sometimes and mess things up, change things around and it's exciting and never ever boring with you. And I love it. You're like a hurricane, wreaking havoc wherever you go; memorable and exhilarating and sometimes downright terrifying but always _always_ awe-inspiring and beautiful. You remind people that they're alive. You remind _me_ that I'm alive. It's like… Like I'm a smouldering fire - nothing special. Surviving but not living, just there in the background with no purpose and then you come in like a breath of fresh air and you give me that oxygen that I need to ignite. You light the fire within me. Okay? With you I'm passionate and strong and full of life and _you_ are the reason for that. You are the air I breathe. You are the oxygen I need to survive but more importantly to live. Without you, I'm nothing. You are my life."

I let out a breath I hadn't realised I was holding. Jesus, Mary and Joseph and the bloody donkey that brought them all to Bethlehem! No one could fake that. Not even Dean.

I let out a small huff of laughter. That had to be the cringiest, sappiest bullshit I have ever heard in my life. But it was also fricking adorable. And God above, maybe he was telling the truth.

Maybe I just needed to believe him. I did trust Dean when it came down to it.

I met his eyes again. He looked anxious.

"Please say something Shay? I know it's cheesy but it's true," he whispered, biting on his bottom lip.

"I believe you," I whispered back, "I love you."

His whole face lit up when I said those words. I swear I would keep saying them all day every day if they made him this happy.

"I love you too," he replied grinning at me, "I love you I love you I love you I love you!"

I chuckled a bit and leant closer nudging against his cheek with my nose. "Come on then," I smirked feeling more confident now. "Hm?" he nuzzled back.

"Kiss me," I whispered into his ear.

He pulled away from my face, smiling more happily than I have ever seen him before. He lifted his right hand and brushed it against my cheek. "Love you" he muttered before pressing his lips against mine for the third time.

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**_Another A/N: I don't know what Séamus's real middle names are so I just made them up. I hope I didn't offend anyone with my use of God etc as swear words. I tried to make his speech authentic. Well, this is how I imagine him to speak anyway._**

_**Anyway yes, thank you again again for reading! Have a good day (or night) :')**_


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